


Widening World

by Quicksilver_ink



Category: Suikoden III
Genre: F/M, Flame Champion Chris, Gambling, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-17
Updated: 2015-03-17
Packaged: 2018-03-18 06:38:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3559877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quicksilver_ink/pseuds/Quicksilver_ink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being the leader of Fire Bringer requires Chris to keep an open mind about other cultures... and gambling rings, apparently.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Widening World

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Suzume](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suzume/gifts).



> Written for a writing prompt meme. Suzume's prompt was Chris/Salome, books. This was supposed to be a short ficlet! =P

"…and if that’s everything?" Chris looked around at the faces of her assembled advisers, looking to see who was impatient or frustrated. It was hard to tell with Sgt. Joe, who was a Duck, and the Lizards were completely impenetrable, but the humans expressions were easier to read. Well, mostly — Geddoe was about as expressive as a brick wall. "Thank you all for your time. We’ll meet again tomorrow."

She stayed seated at the war room’s table and watched Hugo almost bolt for the door (the Karayan boy would probably always be uncomfortable in her presence, but he understood the importance of presenting a united front even if he didn’t like it); Lucia and the other Grasslander representatives followed more sedately. Apple had a question for Thomas; the two were still talking as they left the room. Geddoe left with Mua. Nash had somehow already vanished.

Chris looked at the two who had remained. The one she’d expected would stay was Caesar Silverberg, the sleepy-eyed youth who served as her strategist. Now that the meeting was over he’d put his feet up on the table and tilted his chair back, balancing on two legs. She restrained the scold she’d have given her squire; criticisms of Caesar’s manners rolled off him like water off a Duck.

The room’s other remaining occupant was Salome Harras, also a strategist and member of Fire Bringer, although beyond that his relation to her was difficult to concisely pin down. A month ago he’d beenherstrategist, the position now occupied by Caesar; a year ago, her superior officer. He had been at the table today as Zexen’s representative (the Flame Champion was herself supposed to be unbiased), but he remained her Vice-Captain and strategist in her capacity as Captain of Zexen’s forces, and he’d sworn his personal oath to her. He was also clearly overdue a haircut, and every time she saw him her fingers itched to brush stray hairs out of his face. It was a somewhat confusing state of affairs.

Apparently unaware of the puzzle he presented, Salome turned to her and bowed. “Milady, there’s one other matter. I did not think it necessary to take up everyone’s time, but…” He placed a thin, fabric-bound book on the table. It was clearly handmade, stitched together inexpertly with scraps of different-sized paper.

Opening the book revealed lists: names, abbreviations, and numbers in tidy columns despite the haphazard construction of the book. Some lines were crossed out, or marked “paid”. She tossed it back onto the table and rubbed her temples. “Not another gambling ring. The barrel races again, I assume?” At his nod, she asked, “Who was running it this time?”

"Martha and Billy, but the one setting the odds was Ace. He’s one of Geddoe’s men, you may recall."

"I do." Chris sighed. "The one Borus keeps arguing with?"

Salome inclined his head.

"Do we really need to keep breaking them up?" Caesar asked. "The gambling rings, I mean, not Ace and Borus’s arguments. No, listen, hear me out," he added, when Chris scowled at him.

Caesar was her chief strategist for a reason. Chris exhaled sharply. “All right, tell me why we should leave them around.”

Caesar leaned forward, letting his chair’s feet all rest on the ground. “Take off your knight’s spurs for a moment and put your Flame Champion hat back on. Not everyone here is a knight, sworn to a lofty code of conduct, and what’s dishonorable behavior to you is perfectly acceptable for others. The Ducks have a wholeceremonyfor placing wagers on their spring festival races. Among the other humans… well, some of the soldiers were mercenaries. You know whattheytend to do with their pay. Surely a little gambling is harmless under the circumstances? We do allow Martha to run her lottery.”

_Flame champion hat?_ Chris thought, biting her lip to hide a smile. Caesar’s metaphor was a bit strained, but his reasoning was not. Chris shot a glance at Salome. He looked unhappy, but from his slow nod he shared her agreement. “All right. So long as it’s only petty cash being wagered, and it’s on harmless activities like races, and not anyone’s survival in battle,andit doesn’t lead to further misconduct or other problems, we’ll let it go.”

"Knew you’d see it my way." Caesar smiled. "Also, Martha, Billy, Ace.” He ticked the names off on his fingers, then their nationalities. “Karayan, Zexen, Harmonian. That’s a pretty good example of intercultural cooperation, hey?"

Salome smiled ruefully at her. “He’s got us there.”

* * *

 

Billy soon lost interest when it was clear running a gambling ring tookworkto make a profit, but Ace and Martha became the official-unofficial bookies of Fire Bringer, going so far as to post the odds for whatever bets they were running on the board for Martha’s lottery. Chris did her best to ignore it, although sometimes the party she travelled with insisted on stopping by.

Weeks passed. Mostly it was betting on the races, but they also offered odds on armwrestling matches with Emily and other friendly fighting competitions, a chess tournament, the casting of Nadir’s plays, and once, the Lizard blacksmith Peggi’s sex (only humans were allowed to bet on that one, and in the end that one was closed without resolution after Ace was visited by a very angry Dupa).

Autumn turned into winter, and the fighting slowed to a halt — both sides were unwilling to risk fighting in the snow, especially when each side held True Runes that controlled the very elements of a winter storm.

Chris took a few trips to Zexen, for supplies and to address matters that could only be handled in person by the Captain of the knights. The familiar sites of home were welcome, but the visits felt strange. The matched cadences of everyone she spoke to seemed unnatural, and when she walked through crowds she heard words in only one language. The uniform paleness of the faces more than once gave her a sense of being surrounded by ghosts.

* * *

 

Winter gave way to spring. As the days heated up, so did tempers at strategy meetings.

“…and for our next set of maneuvers I’d like to have the Zexen cavalry here.” Caesar tapped the position on the map. “Their infantry will be joined by Karayans, here, and I’d like the Lizards in reserve.”

“In the past three sets of training exercises you’ve had our knights in the places the fighting would be thickest,” Salome observed, frowning deeply. “Is this how you intend to use them in the battles to come?”

Caesar folded his arms and leveled his gaze at the older man. “Would I waste everyone’s time practicing maneuvers I didn’t intend to use?”

“I must protest our people being exposed to the greatest risk,” Salome replied, glaring back. “And so potentially the greatest casualties. That would be reduced if we were joined by mounted Karayan warriors…”

“- who are better used as support on the left flank, where they can withdraw quickly if they need to. Their horses are more agile than the heavy mounts your knights favor, and I need that maneuverability here.”

Salome gritted his teeth, clearly thinking up a response.

Lucia sniffed. “Are the Zexens afraid of pulling their own weight?” she asked sardonically.

“Madam, the Zexens will do their part. What I fear is that we are being put at greater risk than Grasslander forces-”

Dupa’s tail lashed. “So what you mean is, you want more of us dying to save your hides.”

“Sir Dupa, that isnotat all what I was saying!”

“Enough!” Chris brought her hands down flat on the table. Everyone looked at her, their emotions plain. Between the woman’s drumming hands and the lizard’s lashing tail, Lucia and Dupa were irritated at having been interrupted, but Thomas was plainly relieved that she’d intervened. Hugo glowered beside a Sgt Joe, who from the rustling feathers was stifling a laugh. Geddoe looked up from his customary meditative state and seemed interested to see what she’d say.

She looked at each of the quarrelers in turn, holding their eyes with hers for a moment before moving on. “Chief Lucia, Chief Dupa, Salome is trying to do his best for the men and women under his command. I hopeyouwould not hesitate to speak up if you felt a strategy would hinge on the deaths of too many Grasslanders.”

Lucia‘s jaw was still set, but she nodded grudgingly. “Fair enough.”

Dupa blinked slowly and his tail-lashing stilled.  “Agreed, Flame Champion.”

Chris nodded in return and turned to Salome. “Salome. I understand your concerns that Zexen will bear the brunt of the attacks. However, Zexen’s knights are also the best-equipped to handle the sort of fighting we will see in these clashes with Harmonia’s forces — with their heavy armor and superior equipment they will see far fewer casualties than Grasslander forces in the same position would. They are also better at maintaining formation, which is essential to the strategy Caesar is employing here.” Of course he would know this, but if he was arguing regardless, it meant she would have to be firm. “Looking after your people is well and good, but speaking as the Flame Champion I want no more argument on this today. Understood?”

“Milady-” he began, and she folded her arms. He met her gaze for a moment, challenging, then sighed and broke away.  “Understood.”

The rest of the meeting was far more subdued as Caesar explained the rest of his plans for the latest exercises.

* * *

 

After the conference adjourned, Chris retreated to the aft deck of the ship for some solitude. It was early enough in spring that the days were still bracketed by cool twilights and colder nights. After the long winter, Chris was so glad of the extra daylight that she stayed outside even after the temperature had dropped below what was entirely comfortable. She leaned out over the rail of Budehuc’s grounded ship and breathed in deeply. With her eyes closed, salt on her tongue and her ears full of the rushing waves, she could forget the desperate war they were fighting.

Footfalls -- boots on the weathered boards of the ship’s deck -- grew louder as they neared. A moment later, she felt slightly warmer; the person approaching her had stepped to her right, blocking the worst of the sea winds.

"Good evening, Milady." The familiar deep voice was quiet but carried above the sounds of the sea.

"Good evening, Salome." She kept her eyes closed, taking a moment to guess how he stood before she looked at him. If they hadn’t been at odds that afternoon, she thought he’d be standing beside her exactly as close as manners permitted and not a hair closer, serenely facing out to the ocean. His hands would be clasped behind him in parade rest, as she had so often seen him by the Salon window back in Brass Castle. But after the tension in the meeting, she could not be sure.

She opened her eyes and found she’d been right about the stance although not his his expression or hands: he had one hand on the rail, a good handspan away from her own, and he stood stiffly.

"I apologize for my insubordinate behavior earlier today," Salome said presently, after the sun had slipped down the horizon to kiss the top of the waves. “Caesar’s strategy was a good one. And you were correct about the heavy cavalry and casualties. I knew that, and yet I argued.”

Chris shook her head. “You were doing your job representing Zexen’s soldiers. Our soldiers. She smiled crookedly. “I’d be a poor Captain to bear you a grudge for that.”

“I’m glad you understand,” Salome said, and she sensed his tension ease as his stance relaxed. If he had noticed that she’d needed a moment to shift from thinking of the Knights as Zexen’s to her own people, he said nothing.

“You know…” she mused aloud. “If Hugo or Geddoe had taken the Rune, I’d probably have sat in the same seat making the same arguments you did, and as my strategist and advisor you would appeal to my reason and cooperation. You’ve had more practice looking at the bigger picture than I have, as a strategist. And with your contacts with Geddoe and Nash. And my father.”

Salome made a quite sound, a low grunt. Acknowledgement only, neither agreement or dissent.

They watched the darkening waves in silence for a bit.

Chris shifted her weight from her left foot to her right, her grip on the rail moving ever so slightly she did. “Is it difficult, having to narrow your perspective to just advocate for Zexen’s interests?”

Salome shook his head. “It’s disturbingly easy at times.” He sighed, and the motion made his sleeve brush hers. “Broadening one’s vision is the difficult thing.”

Now it was her turn to make a quiet, noncommittal noise. She wouldn’t say it had been easy, but looking back she couldn’t see how she could’ve made the journey to Alma Kinan and not found her world growing wider.

But Salome had never left Zexen before now, that she knew of. “How did you do it? Broaden your vision,” she explained when he looked at her inquiringly.

“Ah. Well, I had good teachers.” He smiled, turning his face up to the sky. The first stars were emerging from the darkness. “And I read a lot of books.”

She smiled too. “You’ll have to recommend some when we return to Brass Castle.”

“It would be my distinct pleasure to do so, milady.” He gave a sort of half-bow, an uncharacteristically silly gesture, and Chris laughed softly.

Unseen by either, a figure stirred from its slouch in the shadowy corner of the steps from the lower central deck, and moving softly, headed back into the castle. Once he was safely out of earshot of the two on the ship, Caesar Silverberg stuffed his hands in his pockets and, whistling to himself, strolled out into the night.

* * *

 

It was full on dark when his meanderings took him by Martha’s lottery storefront. Caesar didn’t see the Karayan woman, but he did see Ace, who was taking money from a pair of Zexen soliders and a Duck.

Curious, Caesar approached the board as the customers walked away. The lantern light was a little dim, but with squinting he could make out the names and odds on the piece of paper tacked to the bulletin board.

“Hmm… Nash, Fred, Rhett, Borus, looks like Percival’s the favorite so far… wait, Queen? Lucia?” Caesar shot a glance at Ace. “Are you taking bets on who gets cast as Romeo again? You know Nadir doesn’t like that.”

Ace scratched his head. “Well… sort of. Just between you and me, since I know you put in a good word for us to keep operating… it’s more a real-life Romeo.” He wilted under the Silverberg’s surprisingly sharp gaze. “Look, the Flame Champion’s a very attractive lady. And single. Of course people are talking about what man will win her fiery heart.”

Caesar snorted. “What if no man does?”

“That’s why we have some women on the list, see?” Ace folded his arms, smugly. “We covered all the bases. Zexens, Karayans, even a Duck.”

“Very thorough,” Caesar murmured, scanning down the list to see who the hopeful Duck was. “Wait… Hugo? You put Hugo on the list? You know he’s got a grudge against her the size of a dragon for killing his best friend. There’s no way those two will wind up together.”

Ace looked uneasy. “Yeah, well, that’s why I set the odds at five-hundred to one.”

Caesar glared at the mercenary. “No. Take it off.”

“But some people like to bet on long odds.”

“Take. It. Off.”

“The whole thing? But I’ve already collected money from people. I’d have to go give it back.”

“The bet can stay, although heaven help you if Chris or any of her knights find out. But not this one.” He tapped Hugo’s name on the list. “This one… no. Just don’t go there.”

Ace knew when to push his luck, and when not to. He sighed. “All right, I’ll take it off. Here.” He handed a stick of charcoal to Caesar. “You can even do it yourself. But now I’ll need to come up with another underdog.”

Caesar crossed out the line with Hugo’s name and odds, then wet the side of his hand and rubbed firmly to render it unreadable. “An underdog, eh…” He thought back to the conversation on the ship, and smiled slightly. “Well, as long as you’re taking bets, my money’s on Salome.”

"That guy?" Ace snorted. "What’s he going to do, seduce her withbooks?”

Caesar shrugged expressively. “Could be. You asked for an underdog, after all.”

After some thought, Ace nodded. “Fine. One hundred to one on the Zexen strategist. How much you want to put down?”


End file.
